


Mark it With a ‘L’

by Batwynn



Series: Frostiron Short Stories [4]
Category: Avengers, Frostiron - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Birthday, Cake, Fluff, M/M, Short & Sweet, Sweet, Thor Is Not Stupid, Tony Has Issues, Tony-centric, utter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batwynn/pseuds/Batwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing prompt - It’s Loki’s birthday and Tony is attempting to bake a cake for him. The problem is that Loki wants a special cake made with ingredients native to Asgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mark it With a ‘L’

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the short fic series

__________

He was going to do this, God dammit, he had the will and so there was going to be a way.

No, seriously, there  _had_  to be a way.   
  
Loki had given him very specific instructions as to how, exactly, his birthday cake was to be baked. The list was in scroll format, and Tony took a moment to measure it as a joke.

It was five feet long.

Tony was glad Loki had already left, because his tears were anything but manly.

But, Tony was determined to do this, because he was the one who had made a huge deal out of the god’s birthday when Thor had mentioned that Loki should celebrate on April first and of course, at the time, Tony thought that was a joke and laughed it off and things went down hill from there. He might have, sort of been pushing it down hill, accidentally. By making a big deal about it.

Hence the five foot long instructions on how to bake a cake and the first ingredient being  _Wolberin_ , 1 kilo.

“What the hell is a kilo?”

“Really, Tony?  _That’s_  the thing you have a problem with.”

Tony sent a glare at Clint before spreading the scroll all the way out and grabbing random things to hold the ends down. If Loki had a problem with coffee rings and maybe some sugar on his scroll, he could bite his ass.

“Yeah, that’s the thing I have an issue with, because if I can’t even read the damn measurements, then what hope do I have of understanding what the hell is going in this thing?” He read down the list for a second time. “Is this even edible?”

Clint shrugged and stole his coffee back, sending the entire scroll bouncing across the table from the force of it rolling back up. He laughed, Tony cursed, coffee spilled everywhere, and Natasha kicked them out.

•

Two days later— _jesusfuckonlyonedayleft_ —Tony was practically on his hands and knees in front of Thor, silently praying that Loki didn’t come in and see him groveling. He was always so possessive over him and certain  _positions_.

“Please, Thor, please in the name of something, help me!”

“I am unsure of what you ask for,” Thor replied, looking annoyingly perplexed. “I will offer any aid I can, I swear.”

“Take me to Asgard, like, right this second.”

Thor’s brow furrowed for a moment before the light turned on and someone was home, after all.

“Ah! Loki asked something of you, then? Is it a gift?”

Tony sat back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. “Not exactly, it’s the cake, which, never mind the issue of actually  _baking_  the thing, I don’t have any of the ingredients for it because they’re all from Asgard and in—” he shuddered “— _kilos_.”

“I do not think I will be able to secure us a time to arrive there today,” Thor replied, his voice saddened considerably. “I am not sure if Odin would even permit it.”

“Not even one of your ‘shield brothers’? I can go in full armor and maybe poke around in the gardens in a… mill? Is that where I get the  _Hveiti_? I swear some of the stuff is made up.”

“Let me see this list my brother provided you, perhaps I can find the items myself.”

Tony scrambled to his feet and pulled the scroll out of the back pocket in his jeans, handing it over with a flourish and sitting back down before he started begging again. He was getting to the serious groveling stage.

Thor studied the list carefully, having no trouble keeping it unrolled, unlike Clint and Tony’s failure.

“Ah… I see,” he said at last. “A great amount of this can be found in our private stores. I would have to… Hmm.”

“You’ll have to  _hmmm_? Look, can’t I just go with you? I’ll dress up in some fancy robes or something, no one will notice.”

Thor looked up from the scroll with a bemused smirk. “Oh, friend Stark, I think they shall notice.”

“That was uncalled for,” Tony said, leaning back into the couch and feigning an easy calm. “Come on, there has to be some way I can get it myself, he made it clear—painfully clear—that this is some challenge thing I have to face on my own, yadda yadda. So can you help me or am I going to have to not only suffer a blow to my ego, but possibly to my face and stomach and other soft parts of my body that Loki can attack?”

Thor rolled the recipe back up and stood, holding it out for Tony to grab. He did, sullenly, and glared at the floor until Thor spoke again.

“Oh… Fine. I shall escort you to Asgard to search for what you need to make my brother happy.”

Tony perked up and was off the couch before Thor could change his mind. “Hell yeah! You’re the best, buddy! Let’s go!”

Thor’s little smirk returned, and some of Tony’s perk flinched and hid.

“You said something about a disguise?” Thor mused.

•  
  
“I can’t believe you,” Tony whispered, not even taking a moment to enjoy the view. It was a fabulous view, granted, all stars and black and hey, a literal rainbow bridge under foot. But Tony had more important things to focus on, like his damned  _disguise_.

“I can’t believe you,” he repeated, pulling the wig down over his forehead a bit. “Not only did you have to choose this… You just  _had_  to get Natasha involved, didn’t you?”

Thor hummed, “she was eager to assist, how could I deny her one small token of happiness?”

“She has pictures, Thor, of me. In a dress. With makeup on.”

“I have not seen her smile as such in many months.”

“She has  _pictures_.”

Thor laughed and looked over his shoulder at Tony. His eyes lingered on his face before sweeping over his body in a really kind of inappropriate way.

“Stop that,” Tony demanded, shuddering. “I know I look like a hot piece of Asgard-fem-fetal ass, but Loki will carve out your eyes for looking at me like that, and I’ll sit there and watch while eating pop corn.”

Thor put on a pout, but turned away all the same. “And after I went to such great lengths to assist you.”

Tony muttered dark things about evil brothers, both alike in lack-of-dignity.

He had, of course, made use of the tech Natasha kept in her possession after her take over party with SHIELD. It had worked rather nicely in changing his face and most of his body form had been fuzzed out and changed thanks to both the tech and some cleverly designed clothing. Thor had provided that, without any explanation as to why he had female warrior clothing just hanging around, and Tony didn’t even get to tease him about it because they were having too much fun laughing at  _him_.

Still, he had to admit, he looked pretty good. If he was a young man running around, looking for some warrior lady ass, he would totally look twice at himself.

It didn’t really make up for the blackmail photos or Thor’s looks.

Tony swore he would get them all back, someday.

•

The trip into the city itself was sadly uneventful, which was probably a good thing. Even if Tony had expected the equivalent of a horse-and-cart car chase or at least some angry guards running after them, it was probably better that they had no problem entering and leaving the castle store rooms.

“Is this it?” He asked Thor, dumping a second bag down next to the first. “I don’t even know what half of this stuff is. Why the hell is there some kind of a root in a cake?”

Thor chuckled and checked the list one more time before his smile slipped away and he let out an unfamiliar curse.

“Oh god,” Tony panicked. “What is it? What’d we forget? The haji-whatsit?”

Thor scowled and tucked the list away. “He added a rare essence to the list…”

“A rare essence a stunning God-Prince like yourself will have no trouble getting, right?”

“An essence so rare I have not seen nor tasted it since I was but a child, so, no.”

Tony’s lower lip was wobbling against his will, and he forced himself to look away to save at least an inch of his dignity. A moment later, a heavy hand rested on his shoulder and squeezed.

“I am sorry, Stark…”

“It’s okay—I mean, it’s not okay, but we tried and it was probably doomed to fail from the start. He  _wanted_  me to humiliate myself, that’s probably the birthday present he actually devised for himself. A great big laugh at my failure. Hurray.”

Thor’s grip tightened, making Tony turn around and glare.

“Do not think so lowly of him,” Thor said, glaring right back. “This cake is not some passing whimsy for him, it is the cake our mother baked for us when we were young. It is a food he has not had in many years, and will never have baked by her hand again.”

Tony swallowed the small bubble of guilt and something horribly  _sad_ , and looked away.

“I didn’t know…”

“He would not have told you.”

“No, I guess he wouldn’t. I just don’t get why he thought I could do it, I can’t even make an omelet. I can’t even get this special essence of whatever it was.”

“ferskja.”

“Bless you.”

Thor snorted and let Tony go. “Nay, ferskja is the essence.”

Tony sighed and went to rub at his face before remembering he was covered in a fake woman-face and that would probably end badly.

“What the hell is a ferskja, since we’re here and everything’s ruined?”

Thor tapped his chin and leaned back against the wall as he thought.

“Hmm… It tis a fruit… rounded, with a small point at the bottom. Such a beautiful color, a blush over pale skin, and soft. I once had one of my own, brought to us by the elves before their grove suffered damages and they were lost.” Thor smiled dreamily. “It was so soft, and bitter sweet.”

Tony listened, a little disgusted at the mental image of a  _flesh_  colored fruit, before something clicked.

“Wait wait wait… Wait.”

“What is the—”

“Wait.”

Thor shut up, and Tony stared into space as his personal hologram went to work. (Aka: his imagination)

 

Rounded. No, a point. Soft, that’s weird.

Blush? Did he say blush?

That sounds a lot like a—

“Peach!” He yelled.

Thor blinked at him, looking slightly concerned for his sanity when Tony grabbed his hands and swung them around wildly.

“Thor, have you ever had a peach? On earth, I mean.”

“I know not of—”

“You haven’t!” He interrupted cheerfully. “Come on! We need to get home, I’ve only got a day left to make this bad-boy.”

Thor grabbed the bags and hurried after him, still confused.

“But the ferskja?”

“Fuck the ferskja, we got peaches!”

•

20 hours and one loud, cheerful taste test later, Thor was sitting on a stool gorging himself on peaches while Tony made a mess with the ingredients.

“Thor, seriously, you’re going to turn into a cobbler if you keep this up.”

Thor just beamed and shoved another one into his mouth, bitting into it with relish.

“They’re not going anywhere,” Tony muttered, distracted by adding a dash of what looked like salt but had a weird blue-ish sparkle to it. The entire bowl exploded with a puff of blue smoke that clung to Tony’s face and hair and made him cough the taste of bacon for a few minutes.

“What the hell are you doing to the kitchen?” Clint’s voice came from the doorway. “In the middle of the night, I might add.”

“Walk on, Legolas, walk on.”

“I’m not cleaning this up,” he pointed out.

“Thank god,” Tony said, dramatically casting a powder covered hand over his forehand. “You would only make it worse.”

The archer gave him the double one-finger salute and left him to his business. His business being adding the 'wet’ ingredients to the batter and wishing and crossing his fingers.

He looked up at Thor, who was now well past disgustingly sticky, and asked, “are you positive a peach is the same thing?”

“I swear on my honor and my word, these peaches are indeed the rare fruit I have missed.”

“Noted,” Tony drawled, and put in the three drops of peach essence. He had no idea how that worked or why someone would want this clear colored 'essence’ when you could throw actual peaches in, but it smelled really good and he was kind of tempted to try to lick the stopper.

He didn’t, mostly because he was running out of time.

“Alright, now stir and the oven iissss—” he leaned over to check, “—preheated. Perfect. Alright, stirring, not the hardest part.”

Thor burped.

“I no longer have any shame about wearing that dress,” Tony muttered and began stirring the batter into something that resembled a smoothie rather than a soup with chunks.

He poured it into the pan, careful to fill it to just below the lip. He had some left over, annoyingly enough, and ended up dumping the rest into a smaller pan. Tony stared at them for a long moment before he took a deep breath, and put them in the oven.

“Alright, now it’s life or death.”

Thor grunted in question, and Tony ignored the squishy sounds of another peach being massacred.

“I need to make the frosting while that bakes and I have no idea if I can multitask when my life is on the line here,” Tony said, looking at the scroll for the second part of the recipe.

“ Stark, you do that often,” Thor pointed out.

“True… true. I can do this, I just need… hey, look, something I actually know. Sugar. Wow. Sugar and smjör.”

“Butter,” Thor provided helpfully.

Tony blinked at him and pointed a wooden spoon at his face. “How the hell do you know that one and not peaches? Seriously, how much of this stuff could I’ve just picked up at the store here?”

Thor shrugged and answered, “not much, my friend. There are differences in flavor between the realms, but butter is butter.”

With a resigned sigh, Tony managed to whip up some frosting with a lot less trouble than he expected. Then, it was a waiting game. Waiting for the cakes to finish, waiting for them to cool enough to frost them, waiting until Natasha came by and felt the need to point out that Tony’s face was stained blue.

Deciding that the cake would be safe with Thor for a minute, Tony ran up to his rooms and grabbed himself a short shower. He stumbled out, towel around his waist, and bumped right into the person he didn’t want to see right now for so many complicated reasons that set his nerves on fire.

“Ah, Anthony,” his voice purred, hands wrapping around his hips and drawing him close.

“Loki, uh… i’m kind of busy.”

Loki’s face went from 'pleased and ready to do sexy things to you’ to 'ready to do unpleasant things to you.’

“Was it not  _you_  who demanded I celebrate my birthday?” He hissed, letting Tony go. “And yet you are too  _busy_  to grant me company for days now.”

Tony actually dropped his towel, and not in a sexy way, more of a 'oh-shit-oops’ kind of way.

“Wait, hold on—"he stuttered. "Loki, I’ve been busy trying to get stuff ready for you. I’m not avoiding you.”

Loki’s smile didn’t return, but he didn’t say anything biting again, either so it was a win-win. He did, however, push away from Tony without another word, and disappear in a flicker of gold.

Tony stared at the spot the god had been for a long moment before realizing he was really overtired and probably should actually get this done before he pissed Loki off more.

•

The cake was… tilting. It also had a very uneven amount of frosting around it, globbing on the top layer more than the sides, squishing out between the larger part of the cake and the small, second tier Tony had added because, well, he had baked it.

It smelled good, though, and Thor had saved one last peach to garnish the top with. The blonde had made it very clear how excited Loki would be just to see the slices of such 'precious fruit’ on top. He didn’t mention the frosting or the tipping at all. Sometimes he  _could_  be nice.

“JARVIS? Can you buzz Loki?"he asked, placing the cake in the middle of the long dinning table.

"He has been alerted, sir.”

“Is he coming? Where is he? Did he seem mad or—”

“He is standing behind you,” JARVIS pointed out, sending Tony spinning around to see one grumpy looking god.

“What is it?” Snapped Loki.

“Uh, hi, so…” Tony trailed off,not sure how to do this. Would handing it to him be too crass? Was he supposed to sing?

Tony groaned and gave up. There was no way he was going to get this perfect, so he might as well just get it good enough.

“Loki, my handsome devil,” he began, reaching out and tugging the god over to the table. “Happy birthday, and here is your cake.”

Loki’s expression had already been softening as Tony spoke, but the moment he lay eyes on the cake, all pretense of irritation, or even that usual blandness Loki projected, was gone in a second.

“ _Oh Anthony_ …” He breathed.

Tony blinked at him nervously “Wow… I’ve never heard anyone sound like that about something I’ve cooked them before.”

But Loki was ignoring him, eyes only for the cake, nose twitching just a little as he sniffed in the smells of frosting and fresh cut peach on top.

The god didn’t wait long to quickly sit down and pull the cake closer, turning it around slowly as if it was the most stunning piece of art he had ever seen.

Tony’s cheeks flushed, but he stayed silent and stuck to observing Loki’s reaction over excusing his sloppy cake like he wanted to. And boy were his reactions delicious. Not only had he become breathless and wide-eyed, but there was a pleasant ting of pink to his cheeks as he plucked up a single slice of peach and popped it in his mouth.

What followed was a near-orgasmic moan that made Tony really happy that the rest of the group was not there yet. Loki had made it clear, or, not really clear but it was kind of obvious once Tony knew how special this cake was, that this was something private.

“Anthony… how did you find this?”

“It’s called a 'peach’ here on earth, and we have a shit ton of them.”

Loki didn’t even pause before he was cutting himself a slice of the cake so slowly that Tony felt himself leaning forward as if that would speed things up. Once again, the god revered the cake, eyes bright and a little glassy.

Tony frowned and gave into temptation, sitting down next to Loki so he could get a better view. Not that Loki seemed to notice, he was too busy cutting out the smallest bite of cake from his single slice, and slipping it into his mouth.

There was a moment that lasted long enough for Tony’s heart to speed up in terror off having poisoned his boyfriend, before Loki’s eyes welled up with tears and he let out the smallest, most miserable sob Tony had ever heard.

“Oh god, I’ve killed you. I messed up, it’s poisoned. Oh shit. I'm—”

“It’s perfect,” Loki whispered, placing the fork down and gently touching a finger to his own lips. “It’s perfect, Anthony.”

Tony whined and leaned closer, brushing away a tear before another one tool its place.

“Are you sure? You’re kind of crying…”

Loki nodded and turned to face him, a brilliant smile shining through the tears. “You have done it, Anthony, you really… I have not tasted this in… I…”

“I did it…” Tony whispered, an answering grin slowly forming. “I  _did_!”

The god let out a bright, giggle of laughter that was way too beautiful to be so rare, and wrapped his arms firmly around him.

“Thank you… you have my deepest thanks for what you have done for me.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Tony reminded him, hiding his face in Loki’s shoulder. “I didn’t do anything, really.”

“No, you did. I…” He let out a sharp breath. “I didn’t dare dream you could accomplish it. I simply gave it to you so you would stop pestering me about a party.”

Tony grumbled and squeezed Loki harder than necessary.

“I knew it, you jerk. I sure showed you.”

“You did, indeed,” Loki agreed, and added softly, “this is the best birthday I have had for many years.”

“Glad I could help. It was pretty fun, actually, ugly dress aside.”

Loki leaned back and starred at him. “A dress was involved?”

Tony groaned and closed his eyes. Of course that was what Loki focussed on.

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

“But this dress, Anthony, was it—”

“No. Nope. We aren’t talking about it. No way in—”

“If sir Loki would direct his attention to the screen,” JARVIS ordered, “I may share the photographs of said dress, curtesy of miss Romanoff.”

Tony groaned louder and gave up. He had done his best, that’s all he could do. If there was a will, there was a way one of these jerks would embarrass him, even on Loki’s birthday.

“Happy Birthday,” he grumbled, and settled in for Loki’s teasing and rounds of laughter that were louder and happier than Tony had ever heard before.

It was totally worth it.


End file.
